Little Miss Sante Fe
by The Dark Knightress
Summary: Jack's old friend returns from Santa Fe. And all Jack can offer is heartbreak. Pulitzer has an evil plan for Jack's friend, and it's up to Jack to decide her future: to love her or to lose her forever. *Jack/OC*
1. Chapter1

'A Little Plan' HASSSSS BEEEEEN RE-WRITTTTEN! Thanks for stickin' it through and God bless you all! Newsies 4-ever!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Newsies. Only my story-line and oc's. If I did, Jack Kelly would be standing shirtless in my room right now. Oh yeah. *melts* :)

_**Chapter One**_

_A tear slid down the little girl's face as she hugged her best friend tightly. She wiped it with the cuff of her sleeve and pulled back. Their eyes locked a moment and she blinked her tears until they dripped down her face._

_"You have to promise to remember me, Jack. Remember our Santa Fe." She said._

_The young boy nodded, smiling crookedly. " 'Course I will, Faya. I'll never forget ya." He pulled her into another hug._

_The steam engine blew it's whistle and she ran for the locomotive, him hot on her heels. They stopped and she spit into her hand. They shook and she jumped onto the train._

I love you, Jack Kelly.

_And though she was ten, she knew she did. _

"Tickets! Ticket's please!" The ticketmaster called out. Mikaela "Mickey" Lovett handed the ticket to the ticketmaster and he helped her from her seat. She took her small luggage case from her father and slid into the aisle of the train. Her mother was behind her and they made their way off the train.

"Isn't it beautiful, mother?" Mickey asked, stepping off the train. She took a breathe of smoggy air and twirled in a circle, reminding herself of the familiar skyscrapers. Her eyes dazzled at fond memories of this place.

"Oh Mikaela! Look at this place! It hasn't changed a bit," Her father said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Mickey smiled and nodded.

_I wonder if Jack and Spot are still around?_

Jack Kelly and Spot Conlon. Her best friends. She'd met them when she was nine years old, and new them until they were ten. Spot lived in Brooklyn; alone, while she and Jack lived in Manhattan. It was their dream to go to Santa Fe togehter; but only one of them received that wish. It had been her, of course, but she still couldn't help but wonder if Jack had gotten there. She knew Spot was still in Brooklyn; he'd stayed in contact over the six years they were apart. But she had heard nothing from her dear friend Jack.

Mickey and her parents began heading towards the carriage they'd arranged. She kept her eyes on the massive skyscrapers competeing in a race for the sky. She bit her tongue. Mickey was still as captivated as before. Her mother grabbed her hand and smiled, squeezing it.

"We have a surprise for you," Mother said.

Mickey stopped. "No, Mother, Father; this is enough. Really. To be back here amoungst friends is enough for me,"

"That's just it. We'd thought you'd want to see some old friends of yours."

Mickey dropped her luggage. "What?"

"I sent a telegram to New York last weekend," Father said. "A old friend of mine said they'd meet us here."

Mickey smiled. "Who?"

"Find out for yourself."

Her father gestured to the carriage. She smiled and lifted up her skirts, bolting for the carriage. Her mother wrapped her arm through her fathers and rested her head on his shoulder. Mickey pinched her eyes closed and was about to open the door. Then it hit her.

Literally.

She fell backwards instantly, but stopped herself by gripping the large yellow wheel of the carriage. A hand instantly flew to her face, and her mother and father ran over. The figures inside the carriage hopped out.

"Oh my gosh! I's so sorry, Mick!" The squeaky voice made Mickey open her eyes instantly.

She looked up from the ground. "Crutchy?"

"Yep; it's me, dollface!" He extended his free hand. "I'm so sorry; I didn't meanta. Honest!"

Mickey jumped up, ignoring her now bleeding nose. She wrapped her arms around Crutchy's neck and squeezed him. She squealed and stomped her foot.

"I can't believe it! It's you!" She said, wiping the blood with her knuckle. Her mother handed her a hankerchief and she properly wiped away the red liquid.

"Really? Uh-that's good then?"

Mickey nodded. "Absolutely." She wrapped him in a hug again. "It's good to see you, Crutchy! I missed you!"

"And I to you," He said squeakily. " He looked her over. "You blossomed quite well, Mick. Very perty!" He took of his hat. She chuckled and took a breath.

"Is that really Mick? Can't be," The familiar voice called out of the carriage. "When you get dis perty?"

She looked into the carriage. "S-spot?"

A black cane twirled in the doorway, and the figure stepped out. Shorter than her by a smidge, striking eyes and cabby's hat. Suspenders and a torn shirt and pants. Same accent.

"Well, iffin it aint' Little Miss Sante Fe. Howya been?"

"Spot!" Mickey said, eyes widening.

He stepped from the carriage. "Heya, doll." He spit in his hand and extended it. Mickey did the same.

"Mikaela," Her mother cautioned.

Mickey was ignorant. Spot pulled her into a hug and slapped her back. Mickey felt her heart soar. Her best friend! Here to see her! She couldn't believe it. Six years and they still were closer than ever. Siblings at heart. She pulled back and looked him over.

"You grew Spot," She said, palyfully punching his arm. "Still short, but growing."

Spot Conlon glared. "I oughtta soak ya," He smiled. "but since yous Mickey Lovett, that's 'mossible."

She turned to her mother and father. "Thank you! Thank you!" The sixteen-year-old ran over to her parents and wrapped them in a hug. She felt like a Newsie all over again! Back with friends, back in New York.

Now to only find Jack Kelly. Then everything would be perfect.

Her dream love, crush if you will. Faya had liked Jack from day one. He was cute, playful and oh so adventurous! And that was when he was 10! What would he be like now? At 17. A good job? A home? A girlfriend? Mickey swollowed a lump forming in her throat. The latter wasn't a thought she wanted to think about.

"What about us?" Mickey whipped around.

Her mouth dropped open. "D-D-David?"

"That's me," He said.

Mickey's family had met the Jacob's before leaving New York. David was in school and Les wasn't even born. That was before times were tough and David was a Newsie. He too had written Mickey; telling her everything that was going on. His last letter said his father was injured at the factory; and he and his brother Les were getting jobs. It was shocking news for Mickey; David was an educated guy! Why would he get a job as a Newsie?

Then again; Mickey was a Newsie at one point in her life too.

"David!" He walked over and hugged her tightly. She took in his smell, bubble-gum and ink. Her favorites. She pulled back and Mickey couldn't help but laugh.

"What?" She continued laughing, "What's so funny, Mick?"

She bit her lower lip. "It's just that...you still have the same curly hair."

"I know," He rolled his eyes. "Thank my mother."

"Is Sarah here?"

David looked down. "N-No. She stayed at home with Ma."

Panic flooded her. What had happened with Mrs. Jacobs?

"Is everything alright?"

He nodded. "Yes. Everythin's fine."

They all entered the carriage, and her father instructed the driver to take them to their old address. Mickey was shocked even more. They'd bough their old house back! It had been vacant for six long years? She was amazed. This had to be a God-thing. That's all it could be.

The carriage bumped along the cobblestone streets, and Mickey looked at her four friends. Crutchy, David, Spot and little Les. She felt like she knew him so long! All the letters from these friends shot into her memory. She remembered every word, every sentance. She even remembered the stamps they used. Those letters where close memaures to her heart.

"So," She began, smiling, "How's the headlines taday?"

They all rolled their eyes. "Headlines don't sell papes, Mick." David winked.

"Oh I know that," She winked back. "Newsies sell papes."

Crutchy seemed to shrink. "You remembered what Kelly taught you."

David, Les and Spot all looked at him like he was a sack of potatoes. He instantly covered his mouth and bit his lips togehter. A pain shot into Mickey. What was this about? What had happened to Jack? Was he alright? Alive?

"What's wrong?" She asked.

They whipped their attention to her. "N-nothin'," Spot said. "Nothin' at all."

"Just uh-" David tried to think of an excuse.

She reached foreward and grabbed David's collar, brining her fist back. "Don't you lie to me, David Jacobs! Tell me what's the matter with Jack, or I'll soak you straight through!"

"Peter! Do something!" Her mother shouted. Mickey ignored her.

David jerked away from her, "You're friend Jack is fine," David said.

She sighed.

"But- uh," David said, looking to Les and then whispering in Les' ear. Les straightened and looked uncomfortable. She looked at them, then out the window. She'd come all this way to New York; to live with her parents in Manhattan and find Jack Kelly. She wanted to tell him she loved him. That she'd always had loved him. From ten on. She'd fallen in love with a memory; and that memory was soon to be a reality.

Mickey fingered the bracelet under her sleeve. A deer-skin string with a smooth-carved piece of wood. Inside it said Jack K., but on the outside it had Santa Fe carved neatly. Jack had worked two christmases on it, and finally awarded it to her when she departed to New York. Everyday Faya flipped it over to trace the name Jack Kelly with her finger. It was the only reminder she had of him.

The carriage stopped at 22nd Avenue. That was her old street! Tubby's and the Refuge where around here somewhere. Good and bad memories. Jack's name floated through her head with everything she took in. Jack, her and Spot had traveled these streets many times; selling papes, stealing food to survive and playing imaginary games in street alleys. It was definetly memory lane she was walking on.

"Mickey," Her father said. "Why don't you go with Spot, David and Crutchy? They have something prepared for you." He took the luggage from the driver.

"O-ok," She began. "But I was going to go find Jack." Her heart sank at the thought of not searching for him.

Spot grabbed her arm. "Trust me, doll," He winked. "Yous wanna come wit me."

"Don't you leave her side, Spot," Her father called out. "I mean it."

Spot nodded and the five of them set out down the cobblestone street. Mickey kept her eyes posted on each building, trying to remember everything. She smiled when she looked at the Newsies' corner, and then the news board. Still had chalk writing; and what was this about a trolley strike? No wonder the business was slow.

Spot and Mickey's other friends rounded a corner onto the "Main Strip", they'd called it. The best place to sell papes. She, Jack and Spot would walk this street for days; selling papers and competeing for the name of best Newsie.

She remembered the day they sold papers from dawn until dusk; and the three of them going back to Mickey's house with blisters on their feet. She smiled when she pictured the grin on Jack's face from victory.

Les came up beside her. He was a dirty little boy with ebony colored, shaggy hair. He reminded her of Jack at that age; a little less plump though. Les was a cute kid; and then again so was Jack. She smiled and ruffled his hair, putting her hand on his shoulder as they walked.

"There she is," Spot pointed with his cane. "Remember it?"

She stopped and squinted into the sunlight. There, in yellow and green words was the diner called 'Tubby's. "Sure do," She smiled. "I remember it like it was yesturday."

David grinned. "Good. Shall we go?" He extended his elbow for her. Mickey took it and smiled, biting her tongue. She was so excited she could scream. But her heart was screaming to go and find Jack. She would wait; her friends came first before her heart at this moment.

Or so she thought.

Male laughter hovered over the diner, like a smoky fog that lingered. No matter what the owners of the diner did, they couldn't get the obnoxious Newsie boys to leave. They stayed, picking with one another, smoking cigars or cigarettes and downing glasses of root-beer; or as many as they could afford.

Jack Kelly sat in a chair in the middle of the diner, torn and tattered boots up on the table. His ankles were crossed and he balanced at the two back legs of his chair. His hat was over his face, and he was undisturbed. For the moment.

"A, Cowboy!" Boots asked. ""Ow's you and the dame doin' these days?"

Jack's feet touched on the floor instantly and he let the hat drop behind his head. "Fine. Whatsittoya?"

Boots held up his hands defeinsivly. "Just wonderin'."

Sarah was probably waiting for him now. But he had nothing planned with her at the moment. He didn't feel like trekking all the way across town to go and see her. He had just this morning, and was burnt out from his selling day. Plus, something told him to stay where he was. He failed to tell Boots Sarah and he were in some kind of quarrel; between papes and homebody's. She wanted him to board with them, and Jack refused. It was another petty squabble they'd through. The more he thought about it, Jack realized they'd been having at it for awhile now. Almost two months.

He reached out and took the cigarette from Boots, who let it hang limply on his lower lip. Jack wasn't much into the things, but it was good for his 'tough image'. Plus, it didn't hurt to step out of the lines, right?

The bells on the door jingled. Everyone turned to greet the guests. It was David; along with his little brother, Les. Crutchy hobbled along behind them, and then surprisingly, Spot Conlon from Brooklyn followed behind Crutchy. Then someone Jack could've sworn he knew followed in behind spot.

She was a picture worth seeing! Long, dark brown hair that hung in waves across her back. He tried to see her eyes. Piericing pale-blue. Actually she was taller, and would've stood to his chin without high shoes. Her face was heart-shaped; and she was well built. Not thin like Sarah, but huskier. She wasn't a bad size; perfect actually. Jack tried to remember if he knew her. Nothing came to him.

"Hey, Davy, my man;" Boots nocked knuckles with him. "Pickin' up strangers now is we?" He gestured to Spot, who rolled his eyes. He stuck the cane under his arm and sat next to Jack on his left.

"Jacky baby," Spot and he did a spit shake. "ow's life in Manhattan these days?"

Jack shrugged. "Fine. Brooklyn?"

"Betta and betta 'evry day," Spot winked.

Crutchy took a seat as the girl appeared entered farther into the diner. The diner quieted instantly, and some of the boys removed their hats and raised their eyes suggestivly. They elbowed one another in the ribs, whispering, while she just looked somewhat embarrassed.

Did he know this girl? He swore he did.

To Mickey, the place seemed like ancient history. Something of her past. But it felt so welcoming! It hadn't changed a bit in six years. Mickey reluctantly buried her hands into the back of Spot's chair. All these boys looking at her made her somewhat vulnerable. Her hands burned from the force she put into the back of the chair. But she didn't care.

"Who's the stranger, Davy?" One boy asked.

Davy looked behind him and then stood. "Oh! Everyone, this is Mikaela Lovett. Remember Mick?"

The room erupted with cheers and hollars. Mickey laughed as multiple boys re-introduced themselves to her. They'd all grown so much! She even met some she'd never seen before. The Newsies group had grown so drastically. Suddenly Mickey was pulled into the middle of the floor, away from Spot and David. She laughed and looked around to all the faces.

"Spot!" She laughed.

He lifted his chin to her. "Eh, eh, break it up fellas," He stepped between them. "Give the lady some air, kapeesh?"

Mickey put a hand to her chest and Spot led her back to the table. She sat inbetween David and Les, and a glass of root-bear was slid over to her. It sloshed over the side and Spot looked to her.

"Show us 'ow's its done, Mick."

She nodded. "Alright," She said hasitly.

She lifted the glass and touched it to her lip. She tilted her head back and downed the entire glass in one gulp. The glass clacked onto the counter as she slid it back to Spot. She wiped her chin on her sleeve as the room erupted in cheers.

"You remember Mikaela, don't you, Jacky?" Spot looked at the guy next to David.

He looked at her from the corner of his eye, then back to Spot. Mickey instantly looked down, ocupying herself with her hands which were wadded under the table.

_Oh my Lanta did he grow up! He's even hotter than I remember!_

"You ain't Mikaela;" He said, chuckling. "You to perty for that."

Mickey's heart sank. Jack didn't remember her. "Oh really? Wanna bet, Kelly?"

She tore off the bracelet and whipped it across the table. He stopped it with his hand, fingering it. He looked from it to her and then it again. Mickey sat back in her chair, eyebrow cocked. She tried not to purse her lips together, but it was harder than expected.

"I don't believe it." His mouth dropped open. "I 'bsolutely don't believe it!"

She stood abruptly and walked over to Spot, smiling sarcastically to him. "You'd betta believe it, Kelly."

**Review.**

**Thanks for reading. This takes the place of A Little Plan. How was it? Good, bad, worth writing? Or should I scrap it? This is my first Newsies story, so please play nice. The plot does thicken! Does have some Pulitzer in it; but his plan is twice as bad as the original! Please review and be blessed! Happy reading. **


	2. Chapter2

**~i decided to use 'mick' instead if 'mickey' in this story. sorry for the confusion. thanks to all my readers! love you all!~**

**Chapter Two**

** "You'd betta believe it, Kelly."**

Jack blinked twice while looking at Mick. "How did you- when did ya? What?" He was flabbergasted.

Mick made for the door. "This afternoon I came back." She said, hand on the door handle. "My father moved back to New York; to open a paper business. I chose to come back. But I guess you forgot our deal, Jack." She stormed out the door and began to head down the street.

The door dinged closed again.

"Mick!" That was Jack. "I don't get it. Is didn't know you were comin'."

She stopped and turned on her heel. "If you woulda read my letters, you woulda known!"

"What lettas?"

She froze. "You mean to tell me, Jack Kelly, Pulitzer never gave you my letters?"

"Nope. Never seen 'em."

She slapped her hands against her legs. "Well that's perfect!" Mick began walking down the sidewalk again, leaving Jack behind. Her mind whirled in a dance of confusion, heartache and exhaustion. Mick never expected Jack to forget her. But he had. And now here she sat; in New York, having to make an entire new relationship with Jack Kelly.

"Wait, wait, 'old up, Mick," Jack slid to a stop in front of her. "Is really had no idea you were comin' back to Manhattan." He slid in front of her again. "Honest."

"Oh, I believe you, Jack."

His eyes widend. "Really?"

"As far as I can throw."

He sighed. "That's probly not too far,"

"It's far; but not far enough." She said, slipping passed him again. "Now, if you excuse me, Jack, I have to help my mother and father at home."

"Can I see yas 'tmorrow?"

Mick sighed, closing her eyes as she walked away. "It all depends," She said, rounding the corner. "If I'm in the area."

And she surely was.

"Who is that? Styles, who is that?" Old man Pulitzer asked, looking out his window. He pulled the curtain aside and took the cigar from his mouth. His eyes widened behind his spectacles as he saw the figure approach the old Lovett place. It was the figure of a young girl; sixteen or seventeen at most. Very beautiful. Stunning actually. Maybe even ravishing. This pleased Pulitzer. He'd never had a lovely young girl on his block before. This could be to his advantage. And who was this following her? Someone very familiar. Jack Kelly. Otherwise known as Frances Sullivan. The best Newsie he had, and the biggest pain this side of Brooklyn.

"Oh! T-that would be the new owners of the Lovett home," Styles said, stroking his beard. "I-"

"WHO is it, Styles?"

He backed up. "I can find out, sir," He said, clearing his throat.

Pulitzer nodded. "Do so. I like to know the surrounding of my company," He said, sitting down in his chair. "And send them my way if they need a job."

Styles headed for the door.

"And bring me that girl," He said, smiling. He picked up the paper and began reading the headling with a magnifying glass. "And don't let Kelly take her."

"Ifin your in the area? Mikaela, this is your old house!" Jack stated, leaning against the faded picket fence. They'd painted it together for a penny; Spot was there too. Now, like their relationship, it was faded and cracking. Just like her life. And Mikaela's dreams.

"I'm aware, Jack," She slipped into the front yard, slamming the gate closed before he could enter. "I'm very much aware." She pressed up against the fence and leaned in towards Jack. He smiled crookedly and blinked. She never remembered his eyes being such a chocolate brown before.

"You'd better scat," Mikaela said quietly. "Mom and Dad won't remember you; and they don't like me bringing home _strangers,_" She emphadized the word.

"Sure thing," He said, smiling. "I'll see you 'tmarra, Mick."

She smiled and closed her eyes. "Fine." Inside she was still enfuriated with Jack, but she couldn't help but ease up a little. This was her long-lost-love after all. Mick loved Jack with her entire heart and being, but something told her he wasn't feeling the same for her. A lump formed in her throat. Maybe Jack had someone else to love?

She hoped to God not.

_Whatever You're doing with Jack Kelly, Lord, do it fast. I don't know how much more waiting I can do, _She prayed, watching Jack run across the street, back towards Tubby's. He disappeared into an alleyway and was gone.

_Please do it quick._

** REVIEW! PLEASE!**

_I know that wasn't the best chapter. But I got accomplished what I needed to get accomplished. Thanks for reading and I'll update again soon! I promise. Please R+R. Thanks! :) _


	3. Chapter3

_**Thanks to all my readers/reviewers! You're all so awesome. 7 kinds of awesome actually. (and those of you who haven't reviewed; I still love you. i'd love you more if you'd R+R) Please enjoy this chappy and God bless yas! *cyber-wink* ;)**_

_**Chapter Three**_

__Mick made sure the gate was latched and began to make her way into the house. She took a look at the old house. The green shutters were chipped and cracked, while the white wood was dirty with smog and chipping with age. It broke Mick's heart to see her childhome left to crack and crumble to the ground. But they were back now, and father would have the home repaired within the month.

"Excuse me, Miss," came a voice from behind. Mick turned and walked back towards the gate. It was an older man; with white hair and beard. He was heavy set and wore a fine-tailored suit. He had wrinkles around his eyes and looked like he meant business. A shiver went down Mick's spine. Had she met him before?

"Yes? What can Is do for ya?" Oh no. She was beginning to sound like the boys. What would her mother say?

He raised an eyebrow. "My name is Edward Styles. Um, may I ask who has purchased the old Lovett place?"

_Should I tell him? _Mick thought.

"I'm from across the street," He cleared his throat. "I work for Jonathan Pulizter. He knew the family of this house and would like to know if it still will stand."

Mick thought it was safe enough; considering that her father knew Pulitzer personally. "The house will stand, sir," She said. "Because my father is Peter Lovett. We have moved back into the house." She smiled. The man nodded from across the gate.

"Would you like to come-"

A door slapped closed. "Mikaela! Who are you talking to?" Her mother came down the steps and speed-walking up the pathway. "Can I help you?"

"Ah, Mrs. Lovett! Still lovely as ever," Mick looked behind the man to see a more elderly man move forward with a cane and long beard. She recognized him instantly by his tone of voice. Pulitzer.

"M-Mr. Pulitzer?" Mother asked, flabbergasted.

He nodded. "A pleasure, madam," He bowed. Mother nodded, putting a hand on Mick's shoulder. She looked a little pale suddenly. Mick wondered why. She wasn't afraid of some old goat; no matter if he was against father's paper business or not.

"So, you've returned from the rugged west," He stroked his beard. "how was Sante Fe my dear?"

She pulled Mick back a step. "Fine, thank you. I shall get Peter. You must want to talk business." Mother said. "Mikaela, go find your father. He is upstairs."

_Upstairs? _ It had been so long.

"Pa!" Mick burst into the house. Still sounding like Jack. Good thing mother couldn't hear. Sets of footsteps came from upstairs. Father was speaking upstairs with someone. Who?

"P-father?" She stopped at the top of the staircase.

Jack was speaking with her father out the window of the old room she used to sleep in. Her father laughed and jerked back his head and she ran into the room, grabbing his arm.

"Pa," She said.

"Pa? You've been reading too many western novels dear," Her father, "Do you reme-"

She stopped him. "Jonathan Pulizter is outside. He wants to speak with you," She said, eyes glued to Jack; who was hanging in her window. "Mother wants you outside."

"Sure thing," He stuck out his hand. "Good to see you, 'ol boy. Good to see you." Her father swiftly left the room and descended the steps. Mick still stood stone still, looking at the grinning Jack in her window.

"What are you doing here? Didn't you leave once?" She asked, walking to the window.

He slipped through it and into the window. "I backtracked," He shrugged. "thought I'd give your Pa a swingin' in and all. Still seems like the man he was," He planted himself in the middle of the room. "Hasn't changed much," He said. "You sleepin' up here?"

A smile slipped onto Mick's lips. "Not originally," She said. "But I can change my mind."

"Good," He winked. "'cause I can still swing by like I useta."

"I'd like that." She said.

He smiled. "What happened to the 'up-tight' Mikaela Lovett from earlier?" He made his way out of the room. "The one that was all mad at me?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong, Jack," She followed him out. "you still broke your promise. And I'm still mad. Whats the point of holdin' a grudge when you'll still stop and see me anyway? How long can I stay mad?" He planted himself on the railing and slid down, like old times.

"Good point ya got there, Mick," He waved her down. "now show me hows its done."

"No way," She shook her head. "I'm not the same girl as I was."

He raised an eye. "Really? You keep habits, such as swigin' root-beer and talkin' trash," He smiled, "but yous can't slide down a rail? You 'ave changed, Mick."

"No; not as much as you think." She glared at him playfully. "Fine. I'll show you I still can."

Mick slid onto the rail and gulped once. It seemed so higher than before. Did someone change it? Or was she chickening out? No, it had been six years! She'd grown up and turned into a 'lady'. But this was Jack Kelly, her best friend! She had to accept his challenge. It was part of their deal, their relationship.

Mick thrust herself down the railing and made a shaky start down. But, she stabled her equalibriam and slid down smoothly the rest of the way. Until it happened.

Mick's hand hit the rail; making her slow and jerk to a stop. Mick flew forward, and screamed. Jack came to her rescue, catching her in his arms. They both tumbled to the floor in front of the door in a laughing heap. Mick pushed herself up off Jack and leaned agaisnt the door. She noted his laughter and kept it in her mind. It had been so long since she'd laughed with him. It felt so good.

"Nice landin'," Jack said through laughs. "Not bad for a goil."

"Goil? Not bad? I think I did nicely!" She shot back, giggling.

He rose and offered his hand. "Sure, whatevas you think." Mick took his hand and he helped her stand. She was brushing off her skirt when the door clicked open.

"Mikaela, come and meet Mr. Pulitzer..." Her mother's voice trailed when she looked to Jack. "My...Jack Kelly?"

Jack walked down behind Mick. She allowed him to walk first. Jack extended his hand and cocked his head. Her mother; being the western woman she once was, accepted his hand and shook it firmly.

"You've changed so much! " She smiled. "I can remember you and Mikaela running around the house; not even taller than a corn-stalk!" She put a hand to her chest and laughed. Jack smiled crookedly and Mick just shook her head.

"Yeah...well..." Jack said nervously.

Mother chuckled. "And now look at you," She looked him over. "And now you're taller than me! How old are you now?" She asked.

Jack answered instantly. "Seventeen; last I checked." The group laughed. Everyone besides the teenagers.

"Well, Mikaela," Father said. "Mr. Pulitzer has a question for you."

Mick straightened. "Yes sir?"

He cleared his throat. "First off, I'll just say it now." He said, smiling. "You're very beautiful and talented; your parents tell me. A singer."

"Not really," Mick said nervously. "Just a little."

"She sings wonderfully!" Her father said. "Writes music and everything."

Pulitzer nodded. "Very good, very good. I was thinkin', with your beauty and talent; you could double our paper sales by appearing and singing in Newsie Square."

Mick looked to Jack then to Mr. Pulitzer. "Oh, uh, I don't know sir," She said taking a step back. "I couldn't sing publicly-"

"I'll do it wit her."

Everyone looked at Jack. "What boy?" Styles asked.

"I'll sing wit Mikaela," He looked to her father. "Ifin her fadder said so."

Peter nodded instantly. "Yes! Yes, absolutely! Mikaela can sing with Jack! It would be perfect!"

"Pa," Mick said.

Mother nodded. "Mikaela, it's perfect. You and Jack would soung great together," Her mother winked. "Just like old times."

_Yeah, but when I was nine I didn't love Jack Kelly. And he didn't make promises he didn't keep either._

**Review! Please!**

** Thanks for reading. I know this isn't quite the storyline, but it goes into it. Thanks again and please R+R everyone! Love yas!**


	4. Chapter4

_**Here's the update. Thank you all for reading and reviewing, and what do you think? I'll try and fit the plot into this chapter, ok? R+R please! *Cyber-wink***_

_**Chapter Four**_

__ Mick thought long and hard after Pulizter, Styles and Jack (this time for good) had left for the evening. She was still upset at Jack for foretting about her. It had twisted her heart into a thousand different shapes. It had been six years. Six! Could she really expected a ten year old to remember her all his life? Was it unfair? But it dawned on her moments later as she climbed the steps that if he really did love her; he would've remembered.

Maybe all they're life held together was a tight friendship that needed rebuilt.

Mick hoped it wasn't the case. She stopped in her bedroom and sat on the suitcase in the middle of the room. What had her life led to? God had brought her back to New York; like she had begged him to do. And H'd taken her to Santa Fe when she'd prayed. What was she doing? Mick couldn't make up her mind. She wanted to be with Jack forever, but she also wanted Santa Fe. She was torn between two loves.

"Mikaela!"

Mick fled from the room. "What?" She called. Her mother smiled up the stairs.

"Why don't you get some rest? You have a big day tomorrow."

Mick nodded. "Sure. I'll see you tomorrow, Ma."

"Alright."

She vanished deeper into the house. Mick slowly made her way through the upstairs rooms. She remembered putting the paper on the walls with her mother, and painting the fence with Jack. She even remembered shingling the roof with Jack, Spot and her father. Mick placed her hand on the yellowed wall-paper in the upstairs library. Such memories this place brought back.

The buried creatures outside, the many sea-battles in the grass. Endless games of castle and knight in the attic. Her personal favorite was playing stage; being the star of an evening ball with the President and first lady; Spotr announcer and Jack her partner. A smile creeped onto Mick's face. Such memories. Fond ones at that.

She hummed a tune they would sing until they got it right. Then she hummed the melody of her favorite song as she twirled around her room. Laughter escaped her. Mick hadn't been so happy in such a long time. Joy had been robbed of her the day she said good-bye to Jack.

Mick's laughter was cut short by an abrupt mistake. She tumbled over her white suitcase and hit the floor with a thud. She felt her teeth chatter together when her chin hit the hard floor. She sat up and made sure her mouth wasn't bleeding. When she was positive it wasn't, she looked to the suitcase.

"Blasted suitcase!" She said. Mick kicked it with her foot and it tipped over, the latch coming undone. All her clothes and personal possessions she hadn't left in Santa Fe tumbled out.

"Great," She mumbled. She crawled over on her knees and began sorting through them.

Her diary flopped open. A crumpled onion-skin paper landed on her lap. She opened it. A smile came to her face. A letter from David. She tucked the paper back in the diary and flipped through the papers. Endless entries pouring her heart onto paper. Mostly sentiments about Santa Fe and New York; and her undying devotion to Jack.

Her eyes landed on a small entry.

_July 7th, 1894_

_ Today is officially one year after leaving New York, and Jack. I know I'm only eleven, and everyone says I can't understand much. But I can! I understand that I miss Jack. I understand why I'm here. But why did I have to be seperated from my best friend? I know I'm still a kid, but they don't understand! I love Jack. L-O-V-E him! Why do adults always say you don't understand love until you get older?_

Mick closed the diary. Such sentiments. What a girl she was! So exuberant and full of fire. She shook her head. It was a very true statement. No one took children seriously. If Les were to walk up to Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs and say the sky was falling, who would believe him? No one. Because he wouldn't understand the logic in it.

But Mick understood everything. She understood love; after seeing it in her parents' lives, and in the way Jack would look at her when they were only so small. It was sweet, puppy love, but love nonetheless. Mick knew that love was destined for her and Jack. But it would take longer than she expected. With the fear that plagued her when she thought about forming the words, it would take longer than she anticipated.

Alot longer.

_Scene Change_

"Mornin', sleepin' beauty."

Mick groaned and rolled onto her side, squinting at the sunlight. She put a hand over her eyes to cover the beams. She smiled and dropped her head back onto the floor.

"Haven't no one every told ya that ya sleep in a bed, Mick?"

She mumbled something under her breath as she sat up. "Yeah, yeah, thank you for the fact Jack."

He smiled. "No problem."

"What time is it?"

Jack shrugged, leaning on the sill. "I dunno. A quarter to seven maybe?"

"Seven?" She yawned and dug through her suitcase. She grabbed the silver pocket-watch from her Uncle in Santa Fe. "It is almost seven!" She scrambled to her feet, gathering a new outfit for the day. Her head jerked back to Jack.

"I'll meet you downstairs. Wait for me in the hall. Go." She pointed her finger down the steps. He nodded and vanished down the fire escape.

Mick quickly slammed the door and drew the dusty curtains. She changed into a white silk button down, with a lace necklace with a small watch. She then slipped into a blue cotton skirt with a brown band across the torso, which tied into a bow. She grabbed some lace up boots and slipped them on, and then her pocketwatch and was out the door.

"OK, I'm ready." She whispered. She ran for the kitchen, tearing a corner piece from the Sun Times. She scribbled a note to her parents and was out the door.

Mick tried to remember the city if New York. Jack led her in-between people, carts, horses and all the rif-raff of the early morning. She tried to remember all the places and times of running these streets.

She recalled a memory of doding people in a game of tag. Constantly running in-between peoples legs, jumping to try and see over their heads. Being below the waist. Now they had to work around th e pedestrians like normal people. Jack and she politely passed each person. Mick smiled when she saw the familiar corners and street addresses. It had felt like only a few days she was gone. But it had been years! Did New York remember her like she remembered it?

"'Ere we be," Jack smiled. "Newsie Square."

Mick's breath caught in her throat. It was the same as always!

Strewn and loose papes flittered around the wet and sticky blacktop of the corner. At least 80 to 90 newsies flooded the square, chatting rapidly and laughing continuously. It was the same as she remembered it. Mick thought she'd scream and jump up and down. Such memories flooded this place. Mick looked towards the stand and seller. Mr. Wisel! Weazel, they always called him. And a weasel he was! Always trying to jip everyone off. They'd all outsmarted him of course, saw through his lies. But still; more memories to take him.

"Jacky, baby!" Boots said, spit-shaking like usual. He smiled and winked to Mick, who smiled back. David and Les came over, both exchanging greeting to them. David and Jack touched knuckles and David embraced Mick again. Les tugged on her skirt and winked. She crouched and ruffled his hair.

"Don't be doin' that!" He said.

Mick smiled and wrinkled her nose. She immediately pulled him into a headlock. She used to do the same with Jack and David, when they were caught off guard. Everyone around them started laughing, and she finally released him. Jack immediately took her hand, and David followed along beside her.

"C'mon. Time to buy some papes."

Then they hit a figure. A person, no doubt, but they both took a step back. Jack bumped into Mick, causing her to lose balance. He pulled her to a stop and turned to the person.

"Eh, watch it-S-Sarah?"

She stood with hands on hips. Pretty girl actually. "Jack," She didn't stop staring at Mick. "Who and what is she?"

** Review! Please!**

** I didn't like the original write, so I changed it! Hope you like!**


	5. Chapter5

**Sarah's Here! Oh boy...**

** Chapter Five**

This Sarah girl was actually quite pretty. Mick couldn't help but stare. Sarah was quite like her, not wealthy. Her skirt was above the ankles, red with a long-sleeved white button down. Her brown hair rode her her shoulders, and she had quite a figure. Her brown eyes were chocolate, yet deeper than Jack's. She had a smirk and a look of disgust toward Mick. Something told Mick Jack was in alot of trouble.

"Uh, Sarah, whattya doin' here?" Jack asked, trying to get the nerve to speak.

Sarah shifted weight on her feet. "David and Les left their money," She handed them their coins. "I'll ask again. Who and what is she? And why are you two holding hands?" Mick swore she saw green in this girls eyes.

"_She," _Jack emphasized. "is Mikaela Lovett. A child'ood friend 'o mine," He winked to her. "This is Sarah, my, my"

"I'm his girlfriend," She stepped between them. "I don't appriciate you holding hands with _my _boyfriend."

Mick released Jack's hands and stepped up a step towards Sarah. "I don't know who you are," Mick sneered. "And I didn't do nothing to you. But if I do recall, Jack was my friend first, and excuse you, you're on my turf." She crossed her arms.

The square murmured with whispers and bets, and some of the boys whistled low. Sarah's eyes narrowed and she stepped closer to Mick. Her heart flared with anger and jealously towards this Sarah girl; she was pretty and tall, and she had Jack on a silver-platter. But she wouldn't lose this easily. No way.

"You think you're better than me?" Sarah asked. She smiled wickedly. "I _highly _doubt it, Little Miss 'Santa Fe'. Oh yes. I read your letters to David. Wondering how Jack was and if he remembered you. Well, honey, he didn't. Cause he has _me." _She smiled evilly, and chuckled. "Now; why don't you scuttle along and go find some other boys to play with, ok?"

Mick's temper flared. Pain struck a cord inside her; anger towards Jack and this is girl, and towards Santa Fe and her family's company. She swallowed a very rude comment and took a step back, putting her hands up in surrender. Jack watched all of this horrified, as well as David and Les. And everyone else.

"No! Fight it out, Mickey! Fight it out!" The boys called.

Mick took a few more steps back. "I know when I'm not wanted," She said. Mick stopped, still an arms length away from Jack and his evil witch Sarah. "I won't argue with you."

"NO!"

"Ah, c'mon, Lovett!"

"Fight it out, fight it out!" The crowd cheered. Weazel sighed and leaned agains the stand, rolling his eyes at the teenage drama. Mick saw a flick of evil run through Sarah's eyes. Mick always thought Sarah was nice; they were once friends before she left for Santa Fe. Apparently not anymore. Why? What had Mick done to her?

Mick turned on her heel and hung her head, sighing. "But I will fight you." She swung around and right hooked Sarah. The boys cheered and winced, groaned even. Sarah fell backwards, into Jack's arms. She screamed and squeaked, rising to her feet. Her nose was bleeding a thin line of blood now, and anger filled her eyes. Mick was seeing just as much red as this girl was.

"You...you...slum-dog tom-boy!" Sarah screamed. She rose to her feet and pushed David away. She glared deeply to Mick, who stood smiling sarcasticly. Sarah stopped right in Mick's face.

"Nice bloodstream," Mick wrinkled her nose. "You're eye will be a nice shade of black and purple tomorrow."

Sarah glared. "Hag! You're such a hag! Santa Fe dirt is all you are! Pathetic, dirty, lousy, CRUMMY Sante Fe DIRT!" She swung once at Mick, who ducked and tackled Sarah by the legs. They hit the floor, Mick feeling something in her right arm pop or crack, either one. She winced and the air escaped her lungs when Sarah sat atop her.

"How dare you come in here and take MY boyfriend from ME!"

"Yours?" Mick sat up best she could. "Jack is no ones! He belongs to himself!" She pushed Sarah off of her. "And I do believe you wear no wedding band, so you technically aren't his," Sarah lunged for Mick and sliced her cheek with her nails. Mick groaned and a hand flew to her cheek. Three small blood lines dotted the surface with red ink, marking Sarah's territory.

Mick got up and pulled Sarah with her, and put a fist to her face again. Sarah whimpered, rolling her head from side to side. The crowd around them cheered and whistled. They'd probably never saw two girls fight before. David was trying to free himself from the boys, while Les was just dumbstruck. Jack was the same.

"Jack! Help me!" Sarah said, confused at his lack of help.

Mick pulled her up by the collar. "Can't fight your own battles?"

"JACK!" Sarah screamed.

Mick glared at her. "How do you think Jack is gunna help you?" She released Sarah. "We taught each other everything we know." She brushed off her skirt and wiped at the blood.

"Take your nag, Jack," Mick pushed passed them. "I want nothing to do with either of you."

Mick pushed by the crowds, who were silent now. She hefted up her skirts and broke into a run across the square and around the corner.

She did not want anyone to see her cry. Especially Jack Kelly.

**Review Please!**

** I didn't expect to make Sarah so jerky. But it was so fun! Thanks for reading and tell me what you think should happen! Thanks alot! (cyber-wink)**


	6. Chapter6

_**Cat fights leave wounds people! Don't engage! Walk AWAY!...**_

_**Chapter 6**_

__Tears stung Mick's eyes. Everything seemed a big blur as she ran from the scene she'd just started. She heard no shouts, no calls, no footesteps behind her. Only those of oblivious pedestrians. She slowly felt her heart sink to her feet, and then snap in two suddenly; Jack on one side, her dreams on the other. Why had life turned for the worse? What had she done to deserve this?

"Mikaela!"

She stopped and turned around, cheeks tearstained. "D-David?" She sniffled, but did not dry her tears. She blinked and some fell down her cheeks. It felt like buckets. Mick felt her mind slowly begin to dance in circles; questioning her existence and her passion for New York. Questioning her heart for Jack Kelly, and her loyalty to these paperboys.

Not everday thoughts for Mikaela Lovett.

"Hey, hey come here. I"m so sorry," David took her in his arms. "I'm so sorry about my sister. I-I don't know what her problem is, Mikaela. I promise you I have nothing to do with this."

Mick sniffled lightly. "I know you don't," She looked up to him. "I-I thought Sarah used to like me," She smiled and snorted. "I guess not anymore."

"It's only because she's jealous," David added quickly. "'Cause you're so pretty and not anything like her. Not that I don't love me sister in all," He winked. "You just know alot more than she does about Jack Kelly."

"Don't mention that name to me!" She pulled away from him. "I'm done with Jack! He's, he's nothing but a liar!" She turned on her heel. "I'm going for a walk, Davy. Tell Pulitzer I'll have to start tomorrow."

"Ok, sure thing."

"Without Jack Kelly."

_Pulitzer_

"_What?"_

"Miss Lovett isn't ready for work yet, Jonathan," A young woman with red hair concluded, crossing her leg over the other while sitting in the over stuffed chair. She had a sly grin and piercing emerald eyes. Why Pulizter didn't want her instead of Lovett confused all of the workerse.

"She told me today! Today, Esther! Not tomorrow, not next week, _today! _I want her here now!"

Esther rose and walked around the desk. "Jonathan," She said. "The girl is heartbroken. Give her time."

"No! Papers don't run on time, Esther!"

"But a heart does! How can she sing if she's not ready? You're prices will plummit if she sings now, Jonathan." She brought out a book from the library. "Just wait. I'll work my magic with the girl. I have my ways, you know. I'll get her back to normal, alright? The girl is from New York! She has tough skin. Didn't I have tough skin when you found me?"

"That you did," He sat roughly in the office chair. "But I want that girl!"

Esther nodded, slapping the book closed. "I shall find her, Jonathan. But in the mean time, why not raise the paper price for the Newsies? Until the girl can sing; raise papers five or ten cents. We'll get more income and they'll be begging Miss Lovett to sing. The ball's in her court, Jonathan. It's up to her."

He puffed on the pipe, eyes darting. "Yes, yes, very ingenius of you, Ms. Porter. Tell Mr. Wisel to raise prices ten cents for the Newsies. No one gets papers for fifty cents. It's sixty, or bust."

Esther nodded, closing her eyes. Evil brewed in her emerald pools. "That I shall, Mr. Pulitzer."

"And get me that girl, Esther. I want that girl." He puffed on the pipe. "And take care of the Kelly boy. I don't want him muttling around in my plans."

Esther nodded once more, slowly backing out of the office. "I will. And who knows, Jonathan? Mikaela Lovett might be different next time you see her."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Whatever you want it to, Jonathan."

And Esther left the office with a flick of her wrist and a smile on her lips.

_Jack _

"What'd ya go and do that fer, Sarah?" Jack asked, pushing Sarah away from him. He started for the way David had taken off in, towards Mick. He had to find her and sort this out. He couldn't have her mad at him again. No way.

"What do you mean, Jack Kelly? I did what I did to keep _us _together! I'm not having some Santa Fe ninny coming in her and pulling you away from _me!"_

"I don't belong to you!" Jack spun around, pointing at Sarah. "I don't belong to nobodies! I'm my own man. And if you can't accept that," Jack narrowed his eyes to her. "oh well."

"Jack," She grabbed his arm. "Don't do this to me. I love you! You can't walk away."

"Yes, I can." He jerked his arm from her. "And I will."

She rolled her eyes and followed him out of the crowd. "You honestly are going to walk away from me to go and rescue her? Oh, boo hoo, she has a few scratches, Jack. If she's so tough, she'll get over it." Sarah cocked her hip. "And she'll get over you too." She twisted her mouth into a sly grin. "You'll make her get over it."

Jack stopped cold. "You ou'dn't dare do dat to her," Kid Blink said, pushing through the crowd.

"I would and I will," Sarah shot back. "You go after her, Jack Kelly, and I promise; you'll never be the same man you are now."

"Watch me." He pushed by some boys and left Sarah, in a gocking stage. He didn't care. He'd resolve things with her later. He had to find David and Mick. Apologize. Beg her forgiveness.

Sarah could wait. She had before. Mick had waited six years for him.

Sarah Jacobs could do it again.

**Review! Please! **

** That was short and sweet. Not really sweet, but you get my point. Should Jack break up? Whats going on with Pulitzer? And who is Esther? You guess, and I'll keep writing! (cyber-wink) ;p**


	7. Chapter7

_**I need some reviews people. Thanks! Shall we progress?**_

Chapter 7

Mick made her way down the streets of New York. She strayed farther and farther from the Square, Jack, David and her parents. Her heart was officially torn in two. The other half was with Jack now. How could he do this to her? Keep his girlfriend a secret. Secrets had never gone well between them, unless they both kept one. It's like they had somesort of connection between them.

"Well Mikaela," She sighed. "You really mucked this one up. Jack is going to think you're somekind of jerk, and Sarah won't be coming to get your advice like she used to. And poor Les; what will he think of you now?" She chided herself. "That you're nothing more than a rotten, bruised and hurt girl. That's all."

Mick followed the sidewalk and looked up to the buildings around her. She knew where she was. SHe was on the corner of Philips and Cherry, and if she wasn't mistaken, her destination was somewere around her.

_The Church._

Mick noticed a small building crammed between two apartment buildings. It was brick red and had a white door. The windows were cleaned and the front steps swept. The Church was still up and running! This was good news. Mick hiked up her skirts and ran across the busy street, dodging motorcars and carriges. She stepped safely onto the sidewalk and took a deep breathe of relief. The Church was still here.

Mick climbed the steps and wrapped her hand around the old, cold doorknob. She twisted it. Locked. Her heart sank. The one place of refuge to hide and it was closed to her as well. Then a thought struck her mind. Hadn't Jack found another way into the church? No, that was her house. Tears threatened Mick's eyes and she pounded a fist against the door. It shook on it's hinges and she leaned against it.

_Why does everything have to be so horri-_

The door creaked open. "Excuse me?" It was a red-haired woman with a deep Irish accent. Plump and short, but with beautiful green eyes and curly hair. She looked mid-forties or late thirities and was wringing her hands on a dishtowel. Mick straightened and sniffled, whiping her eyes with her cuff.

"Is it alright if I come in? This is still the church, right?"

The woman nodded. "Of course it is! What else would it be? State your business."

"I...I just need a place to stay awhile."

The Irish woman nodded. "I suppose so deary, but I don't know how Inish will like this. Come in, come in."

Mick stepped over the threshold of the building. She looked up. Still the stained-glass picture of the cross. A flood of memories cascaded through her memory. But she pushed them aside. Mick wanted nothing other than to sit here and pray, and to cry. A safe place that would console her tears and lock them away; keep them a secret.

"Hollar if you need anything." The Irish woman disappeared up the steps. A door slammed; leaving Mick completely alone. She took a deep breath and descended down the aisle. She placed her fingertips over on oak pew and ran her hand over each as she passed. This is the church she'd grown up in with her family. And Jack. Tears stung her eyes and slowly dripped down her cheek. She felt the scrapes tingle as the salty tears touched them. More pain. She was so accostomed to pain...

Mick took a seat on the pew by the altar. It faced forward. Mick slumped even farther into it and let more tears fall. What had happened to her life? Her sixteenth year wasn't suppose to be like this! She was supposed to find love in Jack's heart, and take him to Santa Fe with her! What had happened? Why had God changed the plans?

"God," She sobbed. "I need a heads-up. I don't understand," She placed her head in her hands and elbows on knees. "You told me You'd restore Jack to me. But this isn't restoring! This is ripping away. What am I doing wrong, God? What?"

Mick stood and walked to the altar and dropped to her knees. She placed her head in hands and cried harder. Her heart was breaking again. For the hundreth time. The fight played over and over in her mind; how Jack stood there awestruck and how she had humiliated David's sister. She was no lady, Sarah was right. She was nothing more than Santa Fe sludge.

Mick laid her head against the cold altar. The cold wood touched her cheek and sent a shiver down her spine. She laid there and sobbed quietly. There was nothing she could do but cry. Mick couldn't undo what she'd undone, and she couldn't go see Jack. No. He'd shown his loyalty. It was to Sarah, his girlfriend. Not to her anymore.

_Jack_

"David!" Jack called over the crowds of New York. "David Jacobs!" He pushe by a businessman and woman trying to reach David before he rounded the corner. He'd went after Mick. David would know where she went.

"Jack?" David spun around. He look quizzically at the boy, like he was surprised Jack was even here.

"Where is she?" He panted.

David looked confused. "Who? Sarah?"

"No, you ditz!" Jack said, frustration evident in his voice. "Mikaela."

He nodded. "Oh..." He paled. "She told me not to tell you."

Jack fumed inside. Of course she had! That was Mick for you. "Where did she go, David? Tell me." He grabbed David's shoulder.

"She went to the 'Old Church'. Mick wanted to be alone," He said quietly. Jack released him.

"Thanks," He said as he made his way passed David. He had to get the corner of Philips and Cherry. That's where Mick was.

"Jack," David called after him. Jack turned, chest heaving. "You really hurt her."

He looked down, nodding. "I know I did. And I'll get her back, watch and see Davy."

"But what about my sister?"

Jack paused. Sarah. Was he done with her? He had no idea. "I's sorry to say that Sarah and I's is done," He looked back to David. "Don't tell her. I still 'ave to sort things out wid her."

David smiled. "I'd never thought I'd say this, but, those are the best things I'd ever heard you say, Kelly."

"Me too." And Jack broke out into a run again, around the corner.

Halfway there.

_Church_

The young lady must've collected herself, Nora told herself. Her sobs and cries had stopped about fifteen minutes ago. She had looked quite beraggled and hurt, Nora had concluded. She must've needed to come in and pray. But, mayn people did. This hurt young girl was not the first.

Nora closed the door upstairs and made her way down the steps. They creaked and moaned with years of wear on them. Inish, her husband, would not approve of this young girl. He knew not her history; and was very, very, protective of his church.

"Good heavens what happened?" Nora exclaimed at the sight. The young girl was on the altar, laying. She was silent. Was she asleep? Unconcious? Or most imporantlty: Dead?

Nora swiftly descended to the altar and knelt before the young lady. She gently shook her, making sure not to startle her. The girl moaned and her eyes batted opened. Nora sighed deeply.

"Are you alright deary?" She asked.

The young girl nodded. "Yes I am. Thank you."

Nora nodded. "Sit up...who could that be?" The heavy door rattled. Someone was knocking. Very anxious to get in. Maybe it was Inish, her husband. Or one of her boys. She got up and swiftly shuffled to the floor. She looked back to the girl. She was standing, hand to head, brushing herself off.

Nora looked out the stained-glass window and unlocked the door. Another young person wanting in? Should she let him in when the young lady was inside?

"What can I do for you?" She asked quickly. Nora looked the boy over. He was very tall for his age; seventeen or eighteen at most. His hair was a deep brown, ebony almost, and matched his eyes. He was built well, from the looks of it, and had a very handsome face. Did she know him from somewhere?

"Yeah, uh, may I come in?" A thick New York accent.

She opened the door, making her decision internally. "I don't know why we're so popular all of the sudden. Come in, come in, do your business."

Nora had no idea what she'd just invited him to do.

_Mick_

Mick's head pounded and her eyes were puffy. She had fallen asleep on the altar? How pathetic! She'd cried herself to sleep. Now she stood and brushed herself off, touching the crusted scrapes on her cheek. They were cold from the wooden floor, but soothed for now. She swallowed and looked towards the door. The Irish woman came back into the sanctuary and Mick froze. Who was that behind her? The figure stopped in the darkness of the entry.

"Now," The woman said. "Can I get you anything, dear?" She placed two plump hands on Mick's shoulders. Mick was frozen in place and shook her head, looking to the Irish lady.

"No. No thank you."

She nodded. "Well then. I'll be upstairs if you don't mind."

She swiftly made her way towards the stairs. Mick ignored the figure. She turned towards the altar and began meddling with her hair. she lifted it off her shoulders in a messy bun and let her bagns drop to either side of her face. She ran her fingers over her eyes and sat gracefully into the pew. The figure was watching her.

Fear crept in from the corner of her mind.

_Jack_

If it were possible, Mikaela Lovett had never looked so pretty. From behind anyway. Jack's pulse picked up a few seconds. His stomach had risen to his throat. Jack found that his hands had become clammy, and his was actually nervous. For the first time in his life he was nervous. But he had to do this, nervous or not.

"Fancy seeing you here," He said, making his way into the sanctuary. He put a shaky hand into his pants pocket. Mick shot up from her seat, spinning to face him. Her eyes widened and she stood stone-still.

"W-what are you doing here." She demanded. "I thought I told David to not say anything."

Jack snorted "'Fortuneatly David isn't too good at keepin' secrets." He moved forward. "But neithers were we."

"Leave. I want to be alone." She countered.

He stopped about four feet from her. "No. No you don't."

He started for her again. She moved back a few steps. He could see the hurt in her eyes and he could feel the pain pulsate from her. David was right. He really had hurt her badly. He regretted every moment of doing so. Jack feared his free hand would be trembling, cause his pocketed one was. He was clammy and iced everywhere. He recalled never feeling this way around Sarah.

She finally couldn't back away any closer. She pressed against the pulpit on the altar, hands gripping either side. A flash on fear and anger tinged her eyes. What had he done to his best friend? Had he caused so much damage? How could he? He had no idea what he had done to Mick, but now he did. It hit him lick a boatload of bricks.

"Don't take one more step, Jack." She snapped. "You lost all my trust."

His stomach dropped. "I know it, and I wanted to tell you that I was sorry."

"Sorry doesn't cut it anymore."

So it didn't. "I know that!" He said loudly. "I know I'm not supposed to keep secrets from my best friend. I know that now. But I promise you, Mick, that there isn't anymore of 'em."

"Your word is nothing to me."

"I's sorry to hear that," He said, taking another few steps. "Mikaela, I've been prayin' hard these past two days. For life to go back to how it was. I don't think it will. But we start again, Mikaela. I knows we can."

"We can't, Jack," Tears dripped down her eyes. "I don't-can't accept that again. You kept her from me, Jack. You led me to believe that I could love you like I do." She closed her eyes. "Because I do love you. I always have," She whispered. "But you never saw."

Jack stopped in front of her. He took her cheeks in his hands. Her eyes popped open and frantically searched his. He saw the hurt and fear even deeper now. "I see now," He whispered. She swallowed, and began to tremble.

"Do you?" She countered softly.

He nodded, searching her eyes. "Yes." His voice cracked. "And, Mick;" He began. "I think I love you too."

"But Sarah-"

"But nuttin," He quieted her. "Just be quiet."

She swallowed again and he saw nothing else behind closed eyes. In one swift movement, he pressed his lips against hers. At first she resisted, but he didn't let go. Then she stilled and relaxed. Jack couldn't help himself. He'd imagined this moments for years. Mikaela's lips were even softer, more lucious than he could've ever imagined. Jack felt her fall into the kiss.

"No," She pulled back suddenly. "I can't do this. Not yet," She pushed by him and started down the aisle. "Not after what happened." She took off and whipped the door open and was down the steps.

He would have to after her.

Again.

** Review! Please!**

** Was that a good romance chapter? Too much unlike Jack? You tell me! Thanks again and God bless you! **


	8. Chapter8

_Here we are. Please; I really need some more reviews on this one. Thanks and God bless!_

_Chapter 8_

Mikaela didn't know what had happened. Shock had overtaken her the first few moment's of Jack's kiss. But then she'd fallen into it; given into his charms. But then realization had hit her. Was she dumb or smart? Mick didn't know if it was right to have run away or not. Her head said yes, but her heart had said no.

She weaved in-between the people of New York, pedestrians and children; animals and carts. New York may have been her home, but Santa Fe was were she belonged. This place no longer welcomed her. It had pushed her away when Jack lied to her. Or maybe she had pushed it away.

The smell of ink and smoke hit her senses. Weazel's factory. Pulitzer! He would be expecting her. But Mikaela couldn't do it. Jack was supposed to sing with her. There was no way to do it now.

_You have to forgive him, Mikaela._

God ahd spoken this to her before she had fallen asleep. Mick recalled the memories of the train-yard and leaving for good. She also recalled the hurt in Jack's eyes. He may have not recognized the old Mick, but she saw the young Jack see the young Mick again. Jack had seen her for the first time; mentally, in that church. But did he really? Of course! He'd said he loved her. But Jack was at a crossroads; Mick decided. Between she and Sarah. Would he choose his memories; or this present life?

"Mick!" A familiar young boy ran out from the crowd gathered around the headline-board. He collided with Mick's torso and buried his head into her stomach. He looked up, tearstained.

"Les? What's wrong?"

He led her towards the crowd. "They raised the prices!" He blurted. "Theys raised the prices for papes!"

Mick didn't comrehend this. "What? You must be joking."

"No! I's not!"

_Your diary, Mick. Remember your sentiments._

"I believe you," She said quickly. "Stop your crying," She grasped his hand.

Les dried his eyes with a large cuff and she pushed through the crowds. "Crutchy! Kid Blink!"

The two turned and parted, allowing her and Les through. She read the head-line board frantically and Mick felt her heart drop. They prices were raised! But they remained the same price? Of course! Pulitzer made most of his money off of Newsies buying papes!

"When?" Mick demanded, brushing aside some hair.

Kid Blink thought. "Just now, actually. Sixty cents."

"This can't be!" Mick stepped out in front of them. "How could he?"

"Because even snakes gotta make money, Mick. You went to school. Figure it out." David put his hands on Les' shoulders. She panted, chest rising. The crowd of Newsies around them hollared and shouted, the decibal was amazing. She swallowed hard. This wasn't good. She had to see Pulitzer!

_Esther_

The Church of Fellowship.

Esther lifted her skirts and climbed up the cement steps. The New York hustle and bustle blasted in her ears, and she longed for the company and peace of the church. She knew she had to deal with Mikaela Lovett, but Jack Kelly was her first priority. Esther knew what Pulitzer wanted from her. She knew it well.

She opened the door and stepped inside. She'd gotten Kelly's location from one of the Newsies; the pigs they were. Disgusting and pathetic worms. She'd quickly come this way to talk to the Newsie.

Her nineteen years of age hadn't only given her brains. But beauty as well. Esther had used it many times for her advantage. That's how she'd earned her fortune. But, that didn't matter now. If she wanted Pulitzer's money, she'd have to sweet-talk. And alot of it.

After all; she was up against a childhood friend.

"Jack?" She stopped suddenly. She hadn't actually expected to find Kelly here. It sort of surprised her. Mikaela was no where near.

"Eh?" He said weakly, not looking at her. Jack was slumping in a fine wooden pew, head against the backrest. He rolled his eyes to look at her. She smiled and blinked.

"May I?" She gestured to the seat next to him.

He looked back to the altar and closed his eyes. "Don't bodda me," He sighed. "Go 'head."

"Thank you," Esther said quietly. "I heard about Mikaela." Esther straightened. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," He straightened. "Wait a minute. Who're you anyways?"

She chuckled. "Esther Porter."

"Ow do you know me?"

She laughed. "I have ways, Jack. But, so..." She batted her lashes and smiled at him. "What's a great guy like youy doin' way out here?"

"Ow do ya know so much about me?"

"Word on the street, Jack!" She stood, and offered her hand. "Or should I say _Frances_."

Now she was on a personal level.


	9. Chapter9

_Let's see what Pulitzer had to say..._

_Chapter 9_

"You can't do this!" Mick slammed her fist against Pulitzer's desk. He chuckled and shook it, taking the pipe from his mouth. Mick panted hard, her run up two flights of steps was difficult. Actually...she came up the fire escape, and slipped through Pulitzer's window behind him. Sure she was spotted, but Sites and the butler dude, but she didn't care. The cries and chants of the newsies outside compelled her.

"Ah, but my dear, I can do anything I want."

My dear?

Mick shook it off. "Why raise the prices? Aren't you makin' enough the ways it is? Ise beginnin' to think yous were gunna use mes for yous advantage!" She recalled her sentance. Jack was rubbing off on her even more! She shook it from her mind and glued her eyes to the old man.

"The world runs on money, Miss Lovett. It's a neccessity," He said. "Sadly your friends don't have much of it. So what does that make them? To the world, nothing," He stood and began pacing. "But me, my my dear, I have the world at my fingertips. I keep New York up and running. Without me, you wouldn't be here."

"That's a cripin' lie if ise every 'eard one!" She pounded her fist again. "Yous know doggone well that people make their own futures, Pulitza!" She pointed her finger towards the window. "And it's by the gracea God that we survive! I don't know what yous plannin', but I sure as the sky is blue don't want nuttin' to do wid it! Consider me gone, Pulitza, and your deal too!" She turned on her heel and made for the window. Mick stopped abruptly. "And Ise can guarentee that you'll be hearin' from Kelly soon enough, Jonathan. G'day!"

"Ah, ah, ah, Miss Lovett, I wouldn't leave quite yet if I were you," He snapped his fingers. The Dalancey brother's, Oscar and Maurice, clomped in and seized her two arms. She pulled against them and screamed.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" You demanded.

Pulitzer laughed. Laughed! "Sit her down, boys. I believe Miss Lovett has to hear the entire story," They roughtly threw her into a chair in front of Pulitzer's desk. "And bring in her parents too."

_Esther_

"I don't know whos yous is, ma'am, but Ise sure as the sky is blue don't-"

Esther laughed at him. "Ah, Jack! Don't worry, I'm on your side. I come in peace," She held up her hand. "I was just looking for a good time, that's all."

Jack stood abruptly. "Well, Ise not it. Ise got me own problems."

"I see." She slid in-between the two pews and stood in front of him. "Well, I can help with those problems," Esther took some of his hair in her fingers and curled it around. It was smooth; considering it probably hadn't been washed in two weeks, but smooth all the same. She leaned closer. "I can make them all go away, Jack." She lowered her eyelids a little and stopped close to ear. "I promise you I can."

Esther could feel his hot breath pick up. Her feminine charm was working. Pulitzer was right: Jack Kelly was nothing more than a hormonal dinosaur, reading to jump any woman who gave him the time of day. But he seemed headstrong.

"Rweally? And ow do ya supposin' to do dat?"

She chuckled. Then laughed. "How would you like me to?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" He jumped over the pew. He put his hands on the backrest and pointed a finger to her. "I want nothina want you wanna offa, lady," He said. "as me said before: Ise got me own problems."

"Would this problem be a young lady named Mikaela Lovett?"

Jack's eyes softened. "How'd ya know?"

"Jonathan Pulitzer informed me of her," She chuckled. "And of her new position. Or should I say _your _new position. He told me she was...whats the word? Smitten, perhaps, with you, Mr. Kelly." She winked. "And who wouldn't be? But, then she heard of Sarah Jacobs, your lover, am I correct?"

"Maybes." Esther was almost there.

"And the clash between them didn't go to well? I heard that Mikaela ran out. She loves you, Jack. But you have a choice to make: between her and her family, or Sarah and her brothers; David and Les. Who are you going to pick? It's up to you, Jack. Crush one, and entertain the other. Fate's a funny game, isn't it?"

He looked astounded. Flabbergasted even. "You...owd you know all dis?"

"I have connections," She leaned and grabbed his cheeks in her hands. "And I can change your future, Francis."

"No. No'un can change dat," He said. She touched his lips with a fingertip.

"I can." She breathed. "All you have to do is stay away from Pulitzer. And Lovett."

_And God help him if he can't._

And then she kissed him.

_Pulitzer_

The Delancy's had difficulties tying down Mikaela Lovett in the chair, but they got the job done. He was just the kind of woman he wanted: high-spirited; hard-headed. He needed her. Not only for himself, but for his business. He new the problem laid with the legalities, but with just enough money and the right idiot, legalities could all change.

"Whatever you want, the ansas no." She spat.

Pulitzer laughed a belly-laugh and sat on his desk. "You might want to hold you tongue, my love. You have no idea how your life is going to change." The butler, Deets said. Mikaela's eyes glared daggers and she scowled, but her face paled and he could see the fear prick in her eyes.

Pulitzer had always obsessed over fear. Pain. Suffering. It was his way. He didn't care about those boys down there, or the other kids around the world. He just didn't. He cared only for his pleasure, his enjoyment, and his business. Money meant everything.

He'd always envied Peter Lovett; his money and his family. He had a stunningly beautiful wife, a lucious and sucessful business, and now, a beautiful, ravishing daughter. And ravish her he would. He would pour everything he had into this girl; the girl with an angel's face and the voice of heaven itself. And the spirit of the devil. She would be his. His moneymaker; his bride.

Even as disgusting as it sounded; it would be.

"Mikaela! Oh Thank God!" Peter said, exasperated. He was pushed through the door by two huge men; Pulitzer's bodyguards. Her mother soon followed, and they both dropped down by their daughter. Mikaela looked to each of them and her father kissed her forehead. Her mother weeped at her feet.

"What is going on, Jonathan?" Peter stood and stomped over to Pulitzer. Maurice and Oscar stopped him halfway.

"Good of you to join us, Peter. Harriet." Harriet looked up through black mascara stains. She glared. Mikaela's chest rose and fell in convelsions.

"Release my daughter at once!" Peter screamed. Oscar pounded his face with his fist, and Peter stumbled against the bookcase. Harriet screamed.

"NO! DAD!" Mikaela screamed, trying to free herself of the binds.

"SILENCE!" Pulitzer shouted, extending his cane towards Mikaela. "Now that you've seen reason, Peter, shall we get down to business?"

Peter rose, with the help of Harriet and they looked at him. He wiped at the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "What business would I have of yours, Jonathan."

"Sit." He pointed to a chair. Peter sat, Harriet with hands on his shoulders. Mikaela wiggled in her ropes and slammed her foot against the floor. Peter looked to her and a tear escaped his eye.

"The business of your daughters matrimony." Pulitzer chuckled.

He then explained his plan.

_Jack_

"Jac-!" The burst of the church door slammed throughout the sanctuary. Les, David's brother, stood there, eyes wide. Esther pulled back immediately from his lips, and Jack's head jerked behind him. He pushed her from him and ran towards the boy.

"What? What amatta, Les?"

He stuttered as he talked. "I-it's Mikaela," He said. Les shook it off and regained control of his mouth. "Pulitzer..."

"Pulitza what?" Jack shook the boys shoulders.

Les stuttered again. Les spoke so quickly it knocked Jack through a loop. He told him everything of what happened. Mikaela? Tied? Pulitzer!

"Calm down, kid," Jack rustled his hair. "Evrydin's gunna be fine," He turned towards Esther.

"What?" She asked.

He stood and hefted Les over his shoulder. "If you got aff a mind, you'll stay away from mes. Don't coma callin' again. Goddit?"

"But Jack-"

"But nuttin."

Then he walked briskly from the church and ran down the street, Les on his shoulder and Mikaela on his heart and mind.

**Review! Please!**

** I know it's not the same plot as the movie. But I hope you enjoy, and can you tell me what's gunna happen? **


	10. The END

_Sorry it's been awhile! But here I am again? Which of you is excited for this update? _

_Chapter 10_

Jack knew things were serious when he saw the crowds outside Pulitzer's building. Mikaela was up there. His breath caught in his throat when he saw her face in his mind. Jack stored in in his memory; he'd need it in case anything happened. He knew he loved this girl. He had for 2 days; he just didn't know it. He'd been playing himself a fool with Sarah; and he knew their time together was done. Sarah didn't possess the spark Jack needed in a woman; and her kisses weren't nearly as sparky and sweet as Mick's.

"Jacky boy! Did yas ear?" Blink and Mush met him out of the crowds. Jack set Les down and he scrambled for the fire escape. Him, Race, Boots and a few other boys climbed up and looked into the window, slamming on the glass and shouting. Jack's heart pulsated. He had to get up there.

"Where's Davey?" He demanded.

Mush answered him. "Went to get Conlon and da Brooklyn boys."

Jack nodded. Backup. "Mush, Blink, go and get da cops. Tell dem Pulitza's gone nuts."

They nodded, and without second thoughts, they stole off down the street and around the corner. Jack turned his attention towards the crowd, and the figure coming towards him. His heart stopped. Ice covered his skin and blood, and his mind went blank.

Sarah.

"Jack! Thank God!" She threw her arms around him. "I was wonderin'-"

He pushed her away. "Not now, Sarah," He headed towards the fire escape. "Ise gotta get Mick outta dere."

"What?" Her eyes glared. "You honestly believe them?"

Jack stopped. "Yeah. Do ya?"

"No! Do you honestly want me to believe Mikaela Lovett is up there tied to a chair, Jack? Pulitzer might be cruel, but he'd not a monster!"

"Wanna bet?" Jack stormed over to her. "Have ya eva met him, Sarah?"

She stuttered. "N-no, but that's not the point. Stay here, with me, Jack. Please."

"I ave to get Mick," He said. "Den we can talk-"

Sarah gripped his arm. "You go up there, Kelly, and we're through." That was easier than his plan.

He jerked his arm from her. "Fine den. We're through." A decision made out of rage, but a decision nonetheless.

"Jack! Ova hereh!" Some boys called him over to the front door. Jack looked to a flabbergasted and rageful Sarah, and hung his head. He closed his eyes and ran over to the door, his heart pumping faster and faster. _God, don't make 'er hate me. Please. Davey'd neva forgive mes. _One of his many prayers of the day. He just hope Mick would take him back...

_Mick_

Mikaela's thoughts were a jumbled combination of prayers, panic, and one simple word which led to a simple boy:

Jack.

She begged God to send him here, to ride in like her knight in shining armor and get her out of this. She was stupid to have done this in anger without any backup from Jack, Spot and David. She was dumb, she admitted, and now she was about to be married off to some old guy; her future gone, and her love for Jack silenced forever under pressure. What did her parents think of her?

"You can't do this, Jonathan!" He father roared. "It's not only illegal, but it's sick! She's my daughter, and I have some say so to this!"

"Shut up you bafoon!" He slapped her father with a loud crack. "If you want to live peacefully, you're daughter will be mine. Not only will I have the jewel of New York, but my business will skyrocket with her voice; as promised! Sp, if I were you, Peter, I'd be quiet."

"Nothing is going to happen, Pulitza! The newsies won't sell under these conditions." Pulitzer stormed over and cracked her across the face too.

"If they want their friend to remain alive and well, they sure as heck will sell."

Mick wanted to cry, but she didn't dare. "Jack won't let them," She whispered.

Pulitzer laughed. Laughed! "Jack will do whatever you tell him to, dear. Not only that; what makes you think you know that boy anyway?"

_Jack_

Jack held up his hand for the boys to stop. He waved his hand once, and four more boys his age stopped next to them. Jack motioned for them to be quiet and wait. He'd play Pulitzer into his trap, and then spring it. Just like a real cowboy would. He swallowed his fear; not only for himself but for Mick's family and stepped into the doorway.

"...what makes you think you know that boy anyway?"

Jack kicked open the door. " 'Cause she's me best friend, Pulitza. Let 'em go!"

"Jack!" Mick shouted, trying with defeat to look over her shoulder. He parents raised their heads and looked at him. Her mother was beaming now through tears and her father smiled weakly.

Jonathan shot straight up and motioned for his men to hold back. "Ah, Francis, what a pleasure. So glad you could join us."

"You won't be."

He chuckled. "And what brings you here?"

Jack lowered his gaze into a glare and smiled coyly. "Me? Ise not da only one hereh," The boys filled in beside him, and Pulitzer's eyes widened. Sites and Deets' did too.

"Oh, and don't forget dem outside," Jack said. Pulitzer marched over and jerked the window open. The cheers of the Manhattan boys doubled with the cries of the Brooklyn boys to. A cane slapped against the window, and Spot leaned against it, lowering his hat in a mock respect. David tapped the other side and waved.

"Spot! David!"

"Who? Whoever they are, get them Oscar! Not one of them escapes the Refuge! Get me Synder!"

Jack's boys intercepted Oscar. He was led into a corner, where he stood, petrified. Sites and Deets just stood there, shocked and very white. Jack approached Pulitzer.

"Whateva's yas plan is, Pulizter, it's ova. Me boys won't let ya do whateva you wanna."

Pulitzer glared. "You're going to wish you were never born."

Jack sneered. "Release 'em, Pulitza."

"Make me."

Jack looked to Spot and David, and nodded. "Alright den."

The windows opened and the cries screamed through. David and Spot scrambled inside, followed by a bunch of other boys. The room swam with newsies, and Sites, Deets and Pulitzer were immediately overtaken. The room's decibale raised considerably.

"Jack!" Mikaela. He spun around quickly, his hair slapping him in the face. One of Pulitzer's bodyguards, who Jack had overlooked, had picked up the chair and was pushing his way through the sea of boys. Jack panted as he ducked a punch from one of his boys, which was intended for someone else.

"Davey! Spot! Come wid me!" He fled from the room, towards the grunts and protests.

He intercepted them before they reached the stairs. Spot aimed a marble with his slingshot and pulled back, releasing the band. The marble went flying and hit the man in the rear. He shouted and whipped around. Mick was over his shoulder, still tied to the chair, protesting and shouting.

"Hey big fella. Strong stupid type?" Spot said, smiling coyly. David and Jack raised their fists and Mick was dropped with a thud. The chair landed on all fours, and the man came walking towards them, cracking his knuckles.

"Small boys hurt. Charlie make them hurt."

"Oh? Keep telling yourself that," David said. He reacted.

David ran for him, slipping between his legs. Jack ran forward, pushing himself off the wall and onto the man's back. David and Spot ran with a war cry and pushed the man forward. He landed on his hands and knees, and Jack slipped off his back.

He glared up at them and lunged for Jack, but Jack's foot collided with his face. The man hollared and stood, reaching for Jack. He grabbed his arm and through him against the wall. Jack winced, but David and Spot backed him up.

Spot fired a marble in the back of the man's head, causing him to scream and drop Jack. David and Jack grabbed his legs and pushed him forward. Charlie took two steps back and then fell with a thud, hitting his head against the wall. He lay on the floor, a limp and unconcious thug.

"The bigger they are," David began.

"Da hardda dey fall." The spit shook.

"I hate to break this up," Mick said from the chair. "But could someone please UNTIE me?"

Jack looked to David and Spot. "Don't let Pulitza go. Make sure he stays in da room." Both boys ran for the room, pushing themselves in. The door slammed closed; the roars and thuds of the room muffled.

Jack jogged over to Mick and dropped behind the chair. He began untying the knots and soon the ropes went slack. He then moved to the front of her and began untying her hands and feet. Once those ropes went slack, Jack pulled her down to him before she could object.

"Jac-" He silenced her by pressing his lips to hers vigorously. Mick fought him at first, then went still. Jack's hands went to her warm cheeks and his thumbs stroked her cheekbones. Her lips were so sweet, and her kiss so innocent; he thought he'd die. He'd never recalled kissing anyone like her before.

"I'm so glad you came," She pulled back, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. He did the same and buried his nose in her hair. He swallowed.

_Dank you God. You kept 'er safe. _

"Are you a'right?" He pushed her back and moved her hair to the side. She had tears in her eyes; and he couldn't deny the ones tugging at his eyes.

She nodded. "I'm fine. I'm so sorry. About what I said. Did. It's not your fault-"

"Yeah it is," He whispered. "I shoulda never kept Sarah a secret from youse. Ise sorry, Mick, and it won't happen again. Ise swears it."

"Jack-"

"I promise'll neva let ya doubt me. Ise be good ta ya-"

She smiled and took his face in her clammy hands. "Would you be quiet for one minute? Yes, I won't doubt you. Yes, you'll be good to me, and yes, Jack Kelly, I will be your girlfriend." With that she kissed him again.

Despite the ruckus in the other room, and his boys fighting for him and his girl, Jack didn't care. He had what he wanted, and he was pleased. Now, sitting here in Pulitzer's hallway, holding his best friend, kissing the girl he loved most, his hope had returned. He may not be in Santa Fe, but he hand the second best thing.

He had his little miss Santa Fe.

**The END.**

** Don't worry, there'll be a summary. Maybe a sequel if I get 20 or 30 reviews. Tell me what you thought, and was that a dumb way to end? I've never written a Newsie ending, and I don't know if Mikaela should've taken him back, but that's the way I would like it to end! What do ya'll think? God bless you all!**


	11. Epilogue

_Here's the epilouge. Anyone excited...?_

_Epilogue_

_2 Weeks Later_

"So who's taking Central Park?" Mick asked blandly. She asked this because no one wanted to walk that far in this cold weather. She knew she'd end up doing it; unless Jack decided too. But he was working the press today, so she and David were partners. Mick doubted David would want to go to Central Park anyway. No action in the cold weather.

"Wasn't you and Cowboy doin' it, Micky?" Mush asked, puffing on his cigar. Mick shook her head and held the papers in front of her. Jack. Now there was a subject.

"Mush, you know Jack and I haven't exactly gotten quite over our argument," She leaned against the statue. "We haven'e exactly been sellin' together."

Race wrinkled his face. "But mes thoughts youse were datin'?"

"We did," She sighed. "But now we're back where we started."

Figures. Both of them knew the subject would come up someday. It had, three days after the incident, when Mick's parents wouldn't let her go anywhere unless Jack was with her. She'd gotten tired off it and got mad at him; demanding to know everything they'd already settled.

Now they remained friends, for now. But Mick wanted more than that. She still loved Jack, emensly, but didn't know what he wanted with her. They'd spent more time together; best friends still. But that's all they were. Best friends. And Mick's heart wanted so much more than that. Her life was turned upside down 2 weeks ago, and she didn't get what she'd prayed so long for. It was an awkward relationship; but a relationship nonetheless.

Everything had kind of tilted after the incident with Pulitzer. Jack and Sarah broke up; naturally, and Sarah still hated Mick's guts. David, thankfully had overlooked the problem and was still friends with Mick, but defended Sarah alot. Les still loved Jack and her alot; and almost everyone agreed they were destined for one another. But that subject was changed between them in conversation; but everyone knew it was true.

Her parents had decided to call the Police and have Pulitzer turned in. Jonathan did end up going to jail for attempted statchitory rape, and kidnapping. Deets and Sites were interrogated and jailed as well. Now Mick's parents ran the Manhattan Banner. Jack and Mick were head newsies, naturally, and the newsies rotated between working the presses. Weazel the the Delancey's were fired immediately.

"I dunno," Race said, snickering. "Jack talked wid you ma and pa an awful long time yestaday," Someone elbowed him in the ribs, sniggering. "Ya sure youse still just friends?"

Mick snorted. "Unless some miracle happens, yes."

Mick started for the sidewalk, papers at hand. She missed Jack; they hadn't sold together all week. She wanted to talk to him badly; about everything, start again. She knew that wouldn't happen. Jack wanted nothing more than a relationship, and that was that.

"Hey, hey, hey, where ya goin'?" Mick stopped and spun around.

"Jack?" She asked quizmically. He was supposed to be working the presses! What would her father say?

"Yeah, somedin wrong wid dat?" He smiled crookedly. Mick melted internally, fighting the urge to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him. She desperately wanted to, but knew she couldn't. He would write her off forever.

"No; aren't you supposed to be workin' da presses?"

He shrugged. "Ya dad wanted me ta come and get yas," He winked. "Theys wanna talk ta us both. Somedin about papes and salry's and whatnot." Mick rolled her eyes internally. Typical father and mother; wanting to talk busniess. She sighed and nodded, following him back to the building.

They entered the warm building, Mick glad to finally warm herself before a cold day of selling. She would much rather do Jack's job; run the presses in the warm basement. But she didn't complain. Her mother and father were gracious enough to let her sell without Jack. She wouldn't bring up the subject.

"Mother, Father," Mick said, entering the room. Jack wiped his brow with his wrist and her mother ushered them in, taking Mick's papers and setting them on the desk. They both were seated.

"Ah, there you are! I was hoping you hand't left yet, Mikaela," Her father said, folding his hands on the desk. Jack leaned back in his chair, tapping his feet on the floor. Mick sat confused, lost. What was this about? Salaries? What was with the chairs and taking her papers? And that silly grin her father was wearing.

"What's going on?" She asked suddenly.

Jack looked at her and then to her parents. "A letter came for you, Mikaela, from Santa Fe." Her mother handed her the envelope. A surge of emotion jetted through her. Excitement to hear from the city she missed; fear that something had gone wrong. Her joints locked. She read the return address.

"Uncle James?" She asked, confused. Her uncle lived in Santa Fe?

"Open it, open it." Her father said, his eyes twinkling.

She looked to Jack, who was just as excited as her. "Ok." She said. With locked fingers she tore the letter open and read the onion-skin paper. The ink was splattered but still readable.

"_My Dear Niece Mikaela,_

_ I have just received word you left Santa Fe; and if I would've known you'd come to stay I would've come to visit. Sadly the ranch had been slow and I am short hands. Your aunt and I have been running this place ourselves and have had no time for family relations."_

Mick looked up to her parents.

_"I got your father's letter; which explained everything going on down there in that fancy city of New York. He tells me your quite busy; selling newspapers and making them. Congratulations with the boyfriend! Jack Kelly, I believe it was._

She stopped reading and blushed slightly. Jack did as well, just slightly.

_"Your aunt and I have discussed this, and we've sent telegrams to your parents. We know you're still young; seventeen is a good age to start a new life; the next chapter for you to grow into. We both decided on the same note: we would like you to come and work the ranch with us until you are 19; then send you home to New York. You're parnents have both agreed to this, and we would be abliged if you would accept."_

She dropped the letter to her lap and her mouth dropped open. Her uncle; whom she was so close to by letters, wanted her to come back to Santa Fe? To work a ranch! Her heart fluttered inside her. Her dream; to run a ranch and be back in Santa Fe! Tears flooded into her eyes. Then her heart stopped. Jack. She looked to a smiling 17-year-old boy she loved with her entire heart. His dream was coming true for her...

"That's not all. Keep reading," Her mother said.

Mick read on with a shaky voice.

_"Also, we are informed of your boyfriend, Jack. Your father has told us that he too wishes to escape that city. Your dad also mentioned that you are quite attached to him; ever since childhood. We have decided to also arrange for him to stay with us as well. Whether you decide to this is your choice. We will be awaiting your responce, Mikaela. Love, Uncle James and Aunt Martha."_

Mick shot up from her seat and let the letter drop onto the floor. Her tears were running freely now, and she ran around the desk to her parents. She hugged each of them tightly, her emotions flooding within her. Santa Fe! She'd be returning! With Jack, even! Her heart was pacing faster and faster within her.

"This is great! I can go back home!" She said. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Her mother laughed. "You would like to then?"

"Yes, a thousand times yes!" She hugged her again.

Her father nodded. "We figured as much. We decided that if we'd make one member of our family happy;" He put an arm around her shoulder and hugged her. She kissed his cheek and wiped her eyes. Jack stood across the desk, grinning at her. She noted the...were those tears in his eyes too?

"...that we'd better make the other ones happy too." Her father looked to Jack, smiling. Jack looked to them, flabbergasted. Mick closed her eyes and swallowed a lump in her throat. He'd be going with her! She loved him so much; and he'd be with her; in Santa Fe! Their dream.

"Oh Jack, can you believe it?" She ran over to him and threw her arms around his neck in a hug. He hugged her back, tightly. Why so tight?

"Not rweally," He said quietly into her ear. "Are you sure dis is what youse want?"

She nodded. "Yes. But, only if you come with me."

He pulled back from her, one arm still around her waist. "Do youse think I'd pass dis up again?"

"You'd be stupid if you did," She smiled.

"Alright then. You two get back to work. I'll have your mother recite a letter to James immediately. You'll be out of here within the week."

The two of them thanked her parents again and stole out of the room, and down the hall. Mick's hand was wrapped in Jack's, and she felt her heart flutter. Oh, if he could only know she wanted to be his girlfriend again...but where they ready?

They stopped at the a window on the second floor. Jack threw open and window and helped her onto the fire escape. She shook her head and he closed the window behind her. Then suddenly, he was in front of her, blocking her path of travel. She was against the wall, his arms blocking either side. Her pulse quickened and her breathing increased.

"Ise been a jerk," He said, looking down. "I had three days widch youse, and then I blew it."

"No, Jack, I was the one that got mad-" She began.

He shook his head. "No, it was me. We'se jumped inta a relationship, Mick, and it wasn't right. We'se had time to talk it over now."

"It's resolved, Jack. Why are you bringing it up again?" She pushed by him, but he grabbed her arm and jerked her towards him. Not again. She wanted nothing more to be his girlfriend, but she didn't want heartbreak.

_God, what is happening?_

"'Cause; I wanna start over. Wid dis," He said, his eyes frantically searching hers. "Wid us."

"I...I don't know, Jack. Let's talk later. We have to tell the boys." She broke his embrace and decided to bring it up later. They'd talk about this, but for now...

"Hey fellas!" Jack called over the edge. His voice rang clear over the crowd and they all looked up, papers and cigars at hand. Mick stood beside him. Jack's hand found hers and he interlaced his figners with hers. Wet and clammy.

"We'se just got word from Mick's Unca James in Sanna Fe!" He shouted. "We'se going!"

The boys broke out in cheers and laugher, shouting and hollaring. Papers flew everywhere, and Mick laughed, Jack smiling beside her. He looked at her and she at him. She loved him so much. Why was she denying him her? She wanted this, but what was holding her back?

"I promise you, Mikaela," He said suddenly. "Dat I won't screw dis up. I do want ta do dis, youse gotta undastand," He said. Jack pulled her closer, the boys below them still hooping and hollaring.

"How can I trust you?" She said, quietly.

He swallowed and blinked. "Will dis help?" With that he kissed her, his hands at the small of her back, holding her tightly. Mick's arms found his neck and she wrapped them around him, pulling him into her. She'd give him another chance, naturally.

"Let's start again, Jack. An entire new life in Santa Fe." She said, smiling.

He smiled too. "We can. We have two yeas. We can do alot," His forehead found hers. She smiled and chuckled, ignoring the low chuckles and cat-calls below them.

"Like what?" She whispered.

He looked down and then met her eyes again, licking his lips like he always did when he was nervous. Yes, she'd noticed. "Get married; start a famly. Have a life togetha."

She was speechless. "Jack, I-"

"Sanna Fe's callin', Mick. Ours dream. Why not start dere?"

And why not?

"I'll think about it, pray about it," Mick said quietly. "But I think that would be great, Cowboy. I think it would be great."

And it was.

**The END!**


End file.
